Protecting the Racers
by DawningStar
Summary: What will it take for Racer X to admit who he is? 2008 Movie. Complete in six parts.
1. Chapter 1

Protecting the Racers

by Dawn

_(a gift fic for my sister, Star, who loves melodrama almost as much as she loves to drag me to movies.)_

_Note: This fic is completely written, and will be posted in six parts, once a day or as often as I can make the library computers upload. No internet at home makes things rather difficult. _

_Please review!_

Part One

Trixie kept her head down as she hurried up the stairs, pressing against one wall to avoid the flood of people going the other way. She was still blinking away spots from the brilliance of the camera flashes, and it was hardly appropriate to be running away from the family in their moment of triumph, but she had to. Just for a moment. This might be her only chance.

Someone else should have been there with them all, should be sharing in Speed's joy. Racer X...Rex Racer.

After the last day of the rally, she'd been certain, as certain as Speed was when they first discussed it, the knowledge gripping her with the same excitement that burned in his eyes. Maybe it was only that she hadn't been with Speed when Racer X revealed an unfamiliar face...but she couldn't shake the belief.

Of course she'd always been a romantic. Drawn to hopeless causes, that was what the girls at school had said.

After Speed had won the Grand Prix, with all the odds against him, how could she feel any cause was hopeless?

He would understand why she'd vanished. Eventually, when she could explain, he would understand. With all the cameras, the reporters, he was going to be so busy, maybe he wouldn't even notice until she got back.

At last she got by the main crush of people leaving their seats, and made swifter progress up the stairs until she turned toward the entrance of the private boxes. She'd pulled the schematics of the stadium off the web and studied them thoroughly. First with Speed, to refresh his memory of the details of the course; and then, in a paranoia she'd been unwilling to admit, alone to memorize exactly how to get to the Inspector's box. To have somewhere safe to run.

She didn't put anything past the idiot man trying to fix the race, not after the events at Casa Cristo. Gunmen on the track and ninjas in the hotel room made a girl nervous no matter how swiftly they'd been taken care of. She'd wanted somewhere safe the family could go, just in case someone got the bright idea to take hostages.

So Trixie rounded corners like she'd been there before, and her adrenaline high battled her nerves and possibly her better judgment to keep her hurrying forward, until she came to a sudden stop in front of the well-dressed man guarding the closed door of the Inspector's private box. "Can I go in?" she asked, before she could think better of it.

The guard frowned. "If you want to talk to the Inspector, you should call his office later," he told her. "Anyway, he's gone to meet with the race officials about that spearhook. He's not here."

"No, I--I wanted to talk to Racer X," she said. Her hands twisted together of their own accord, but she managed to meet the man's gaze without looking away. "He has to be here, he wouldn't miss Speed's race."

The guard's frown only deepened, and she flinched, realizing he meant to turn her away. "Can't you just ask him?" she pleaded.

With a sigh, he reached for his radio. "Speed Racer's girlfriend is out here asking to talk to Racer X. Should I send her away?"

Racer. Nice coincidence that the family name was suitable for a 'nameless' driver to choose for unrelated reasons. If you believed in coincidences, which on the whole Trixie did not. Speed had taken the driver at face value--_hah, nice joke there, Trix_ --but then Speed was a sweet boy who sometimes believed what he was told just a little too easily.

The pause was long enough that Trixie nearly died of asphyxiation from holding her breath and had to gasp quietly instead. At last, the radio clicked. "She can come in," the flat voice said.

Trixie thanked heaven silently, smiled at the guard as he opened the secure door, and went in fast before anyone could change their minds, especially her.

Racer X was standing with his back to her, his masked face reflected in the glass. The room was dark, the better to see the racetrack out the window, and the commotion around Victory Lane was clearly visible. She could see Speed, in his white racing uniform, and imagine his smile, though the room's screens that were probably showing a closer view had all been turned off.

"You should be out there with your boyfriend," Racer X broke the silence before she'd gathered the courage to do so herself.

She swallowed. "I was afraid if I waited, you'd leave."

He inclined his head in silent acknowledgment.

It would have been easier if he'd said something, like 'what are you doing here?' or 'what's so important?' But Trixie hadn't really expected him to make this easy, so she plunged boldly forward. She'd had a lot of time to consider the best approach, even if it didn't feel like enough now the moment was here. "Are you going to tell Speed he should leave the family?" she demanded.

He jerked to meet her unyielding stare, and although she couldn't see his eyes behind the dark mask the shock in his voice was all she'd hoped for. "What? No! No, of course not."

"But he's become a target now, hasn't he?" she pressed on. "Royalton can't be the only one trying to fix the races. With these victories, everyone's going to be watching Speed."

"True," Racer X admitted.

Before he could add reassurances, Trixie kept going. "Speed remembers as well as I do back when Rex was a target, and if you tell him we're in danger because of him, he'd go with you, because he loves us." Her eyes drifted to the distant white-clad figure again, and she had to force her hands to relax, because her nails were digging painfully into the skin of her wrists. "But it isn't fair, because we'd rather be in danger with him than safe while he's all by himself. And I want you to understand that." She looked up to catch his gaze again, in an effort to force her point--both points, really--into his stubborn head. "Please understand that."

The silence stretched between them with the tension of a rubber band, almost painful when it snapped. "If your boyfriend told you what he suspected about me, I'm surprised he didn't tell you about our last encounter, miss."

So much for her efforts at being subtle. "He did," she conceded. "Your new face fooled Speed."

"I assure you..."

"That's how he remembers his brother," she continued, because if she stopped he'd never let her finish. "The pictures Speed keeps in his room. And the driving. But Speed says you drive exactly like Rex, and there's no way he'd make a mistake about that. And I'm not much good with faces, but your voice, when Speed was in danger? It's the way you sounded the first time I ever met you. I've never forgotten that."

Racer X didn't react at all that she could see, which was itself reaction enough, because he hadn't flat-out denied it. "I'm not going to tell Speed, or the family, not if you don't want me to," Trixie said quietly. "Speed's more likely to believe you anyway, and he doesn't need the doubt. But there are things you need to hear."

"Go on, then." It was a good effort at amusement, but it fell shallow. "You've gone to all this trouble; you should say what you mean to." The masked racer had turned away, looking out the window again, and his posture contrived to suggest he was only humoring her.

Trixie swallowed, realizing anew just how nervous she was. What if she said the wrong thing, and Speed lost his brother forever because of her? But she had to try. "It made sense, when Rex--when you left, that it was safer for the family. But now, Speed's made us just as much a target, and if you came back--not publicly, but as, I don't know, another driver--it wouldn't add any danger. Everyone already knows you and Speed have raced together. And you'd be there to protect Speed. Protect the family."

He cast a sidelong look at her, a slight movement in the shadows. "If you're this worried about your safety, maybe you ought to think twice about your choice of boyfriend."

"It's not me I'm worried about!" Trixie retorted, stung. "It's that, if something happened to them," she nodded out the window, where Speed still held the attention of the gathered crowd, "and I wasn't there to help, and I could have been, I don't think I'd ever forgive myself. And I don't think you would forgive yourself, either."

Racer X turned away from the window, one hand lingering on the glass. It was hard to meet that black, emotionless stare when it was focused on her, but Trixie didn't look away. "You're a clever girl," he said at last. "The kid's lucky to have you."

She had no idea how to answer that, and the heat rushing to her cheeks made her duck her head and hope the blush wasn't too obvious.

"I promise you this much," the masked racer went on, "I am going to protect the Racers. Sometimes the best way to do that isn't any obvious way."

Trixie thought about trying to work out what he meant by that, but knew she was too flustered to have any real chance right now. "They miss you," she said quickly, before he could tell her to go away. "All of them. They didn't understand what you were trying to do, before. They understand better now. But they always missed you. Your dad said he was wrong to be so hard on you. He tried to fix the mistake with Speed, but if he had the chance I bet he'd try to do better by you. They wish you could come home. And you've got a little brother you've hardly met. You should come home, Rex."

There was a tightness about his jaw as she spoke that made her hope the words were having some effect. Slowly, as though she'd dragged the words from him, he said, "And ask them to mourn Rex twice? This isn't a safe life, you know."

"Mourning you again would be better than losing the only chance of making things right," Trixie insisted doggedly. "If it were you, and you thought Speed was dead--"

He cut her off, slashing one hand down sharply. "Enough." The word was harsh, but Trixie heard the underlying pain in it like a victory bell. She'd pushed, maybe too hard, but she'd made him hear.

The masked racer had looked down for a moment, regaining his composure, the emotional mask that, she suspected, might hide even more than the physical one did. "You should be with your boyfriend," he said with finality. "I'll call someone to escort you down there."

"All right," she agreed meekly.

A card in his hand, drawn apparently from nowhere. "And here. If there are any threats to the family's safety, contact us at this number."

Trixie nodded understanding, tucking the card carefully away.

"You can wait out here," he added, opening the door to further signal the end of the conversation. "Have a nice day, miss."

"Don't forget what I said," Trixie warned as a final shot, and left the room, her heart pounding as though it meant to leap right out of her chest. The door shut behind her with a firm click.

The guard outside tilted his head as though he wanted to ask what she'd said to the racer but was too polite, and commented mildly, "Exciting race today, wasn't it?"

Trixie took a breath as though the air might abandon her any moment, replied, "Oh, yes, it was!" and tried to think of some way to explain her absence without actually explaining it. Or lying. She didn't want to lie to Speed, not ever.

"You tell your boyfriend that we'll see to it Royalton gets what he deserves for that stunt with the spearhook," the man added.

_Perfect._ A good explanation, and even mostly true. "Thank you!" Trixie said, with honest gratitude. "We wouldn't know what to do, and I can't bear to think of him getting away with it."

The guard smiled at her with a fatherly sort of air, and they chatted until another man arrived to take her back down to Victory Lane, where Spritle and his chimpanzee were carrying on with such enthusiasm that hardly anyone noticed she'd been gone. And Trixie threw herself into the victory celebration, and hoped that the missing family member would make the right choice.

* * *

In the empty room, safe from prying eyes, he could have taken his mask off again. But at the moment, the feel of plastic and cloth against his skin felt more honest than exposing the face that was only his second and better disguise.

He could have watched the victory celebration more closely, but he didn't want the false intimacy the cameras provided, their job to make viewers feel like a part of the action. Better to watch from a distance. Rex Racer was dead, and a ghost had no right to take part in Speed's hard-won and honest victory.

A shadow in the dark, he watched until the Racer family departed to celebrate away from the spotlight, then reached to the computer controls and shaded the windows. The white figure of the first-place winner still walked through his memory, the brave boy who'd grown up so well. Better than he'd dared to hope. Whatever damage Rex Racer had done to his family, at least Speed had walked away from the crash unstained.

Then he remembered his brother confronting him on the track at Thunderhead, the desperate hope in Speed's voice, and the wordless lie his face told. The way the fire in his brother's eyes had dimmed, and gone out.

It hadn't fooled the girl, though. Bright one, she was. He hadn't really remembered her before, she'd grown up beautifully, but now she mentioned it he did recall the day he'd first met her as a child visiting Speed. Which had been the day the bomb arrived, the day he truly understood how much danger his stubborn pride had created for his family.

Would Speed come to a similar realization? It sounded as though Trixie had beat him to it, and had every intention of sticking with him like glue.

A smile crept unwillingly to his lips. Speed was lucky to have found a girl like that. One point the brothers had in common, because he'd never managed to convince Elena to stay out of danger either--his fellow agent, nicknamed Minx.

But Trixie was wrong. He had no right to wake the ghost of Rex Racer, a son already mourned and laid to rest. However much the family missed him--and he'd seen their grief after his death, he didn't doubt that was true--his presence would only complicate an already complex situation. They'd be safer if he kept on watching from the shadows.

The click of the door opening came without any announcement from the guard outside, and he spun to defend himself against the intruder. But it was only the Inspector, squinting into the unlit room. "Dark in here," he observed, stepping in and closing the door before he reached for the switch.

As the lights came on, he closed his eyes for a moment by instinct, but the mask did most of the adjusting automatically. It had its practical uses. Just like the face he now wore, he reminded himself. As Rex Racer, he would never have been any use off the track. Now, no one could possibly recognize him.

The Inspector looked at him curiously. "You're wearing your mask here? Is that wise?"

Racer X had no real reason to be at the Grand Prix, and he'd worn an ordinary formal suit into the track. The mask rarely left his side, however, just in case. He pulled it off, blinking at the new brightness, and returned it to its place inside his suit. "The girl knows me as Racer X, and she guessed I was here. I didn't want her to see my face."

"Yes, the girl," the other man said, with careful neutrality. "Henry mentioned she was here. Something she said got to you, did it?"

"No," he denied reflexively. "I just needed a minute to think."

A shrug, and the Inspector's expression remained placid enough to mean either _Yes, I believe you completely_ or _You keep telling yourself that if you like_ . Usually the latter. He was infuriating that way. "Well, if you're done thinking, I have some rather disturbing news."

News was almost always disturbing. Good news only happened to normal people; the Inspector never had time left over for it. "What is it?"

"Royalton," the Inspector said grimly. "You know, of course, what a favor your brother's done for us--"

"I don't have a brother, Inspector." The words came out with just a bit too much of an edge.

The Inspector raised his eyebrows. "Of course not, Alex," he agreed. "I'm sorry, at times I forget who I'm talking to."

It had been a mistake to draw attention to the wording, he knew. But Alex Ryder, his ordinary identity ever since Rex Racer had died in flames ten years ago, was an only child. "Go on," he muttered.

"Young Speed got us the evidence we needed that Royalton's driver cheated flagrantly," the Inspector continued. "But it's going to be a good sight harder to trace the fault back to Royalton himself, especially since the driver isn't talking. Royalton's lawyers are already claiming that the driver must have bribed the mechanics and Royalton knew nothing about it. And you know all of Royalton's mechanics are too frightened of him to give us any evidence."

Alex sighed, and nodded. That had been a waste of a few months undercover. "If Taejo Togokahn were willing to testify, we might still have a case."

"I'm looking into it. But more importantly, Royalton approached Speed Racer, and Racer turned him down flat. The boy's a hero now, any jury will take his word. If Royalton said anything to Speed that implied that Royalton Industries was involved in fixing races..." The Inspector spread his fingers, not bothering to lay out the logic they both knew. "You see the problem, of course."

His frown had grown deep-furrowed. "Royalton knows how dangerous Speed is to him."

"Exactly. According to one source, he's already promised a million dollars to anyone who takes out Speed Racer, on or off the track. That threat isn't going away just because Racer won the Grand Prix." The Inspector turned, and offered a bright smile, the one that always meant someone was about to be very unhappy. "So I'm assigning you, Alex, and your lovely wife Elena, as protection for the Racer family."

end part one


	2. Chapter 2

Protecting the Racers

by Dawn

Part Two

"It's a _terrible_ idea."

"Yes, you said that already," Elena murmured patiently, her light accent clipping the vowels.

Alex grimaced at her, not that she could see it. Her eyes were on the road ahead, watching for their next turn. "Speed's going to recognize me as Racer X, and his girlfriend insists Racer X is Rex Racer."

"You said that already, too."

It was definitely a conspiracy, Alex decided. A vile conspiracy meant to drag him straight into all the tangled mess he'd so recently resolved would be much better left alone. "You agree with the Inspector, don't you?" he accused.

She heaved a sigh. "_Yes_ , Alex. Yes, I agree with the Inspector. I was very subtle about it, but you can tell because I said, 'Alex, I think the Inspector's right.'"

"Funny," he muttered. "_You_ just want to meet your in-laws."

"Meet them, keep them from being murdered, all that sort of thing." Elena lifted one hand from the wheel in an airy gesture.

Racer X had no family, couldn't be seen to have any connections at all, but Alex and Elena Ryder had been married for almost five years now. Neither of them were going by their original names, but the marriage was real enough--if somewhat strained when necessity required one of them to go off alone. Elena usually managed to come to all his races anyway, because Racer X did need a good mechanic. His wife was one of the best, and more importantly, the only one he could trust.

Until now, when she'd betrayed him to plot with the Inspector. "You and he decided that it's somehow good for me to completely ruin the secret identity that we've all put _years_ into building, and neither of you is listening when I tell you that _it's a terrible idea!_ "

"Oh, we have been listening," Elena contradicted, with a sidelong glint of humor. "Believe me, we only wish we weren't. We just happen to think you're wrong this time."

His fist slammed into the inoffensive dashboard. "Wrong or not, it's my life, Elena. You want to force my hand--"

"Alex, no," she protested, her voice softening. "It is your choice. I won't tell them anything, or even hint, I swear it. The Inspector just thinks you should not miss this chance to spend time with your family. Whether you choose to let them know who you are, or not."

When she put it that way, it was difficult to argue against. "You promise?" he double-checked, suspicious.

"I swear on the Shooting Star," Elena pledged solemnly, "I will not tell anyone, or hint in any way, about any of your secrets."

Elena was the only person in the world who loved his yellow race car just as much as he did. Or more, as she often contended when his racetrack antics with it necessitated a complete rebuild. She always took her promises seriously, but this called on one of the most significant bonds between them and Alex couldn't doubt her even if he wanted to.

He let out a breath, the sense of being trapped receding somewhat, and a good part of his anger abandoned him. Still--"This is a terrible idea," he grumbled.

His wife shook her head fondly. "Let's wait and see, shall we?" she suggested. "You might be surprised."

The town out the window was very familiar now, and he wasn't sure which was more disconcerting, the changes, or how much was still exactly as he remembered. "You missed the turn," he pointed out.

Elena hissed in frustration, checking the street names and turning down the next road. "You could have mentioned something earlier."

"Well, if you'd let me drive..."

She shot him a glare. "You know the rule, Alex. If you're not wearing the mask, you can't drive." Elena and the Inspector had both insisted long ago that Alex Ryder's driving would give him away as a racer. Alex still believed he was perfectly capable of driving normally if he needed to, but he humored them.

The short remainder of the drive went by in silence, and Alex tried to sink firmly enough into his present identity that Rex Racer's memories wouldn't give him away. Speed would recognize him as Racer X , but could probably be trusted not to mention it. Trixie shouldn't recognize him without the mask, so for now he was safe enough from her suspicions.

So with Speed he had to be Alex-secretly-Racer-X-but-not-Rex-Racer, which was rather a different thing from just-Alex, the persona everyone else had to see. And his usual portrayal of just-Alex was a bit too much like Rex to risk in the Racer household, come to think of it. He very quietly thumped his head on the side window. Complications, complications, all the best plans were simple and how was this a good idea?

He could hear Elena whispering to herself under her breath, solidifying her own identity. His wife did more to disguise herself with clothes and voice than he could ever manage, even with the surgery and the mask. At present they were both in the clean but oil-stained coveralls of their common role as mechanics, in a car with an engine in somewhat better than top shape and a completely unexceptionable exterior, and she wore glasses she didn't need but which were useful to shield her eyes. Speed was likely to recognize her as the mechanic who'd modified his car before Casa Cristo, but none of the other family members should know her.

"It's gonna be okay, Alex," she said, and her accent had lost all its clipped refinement and gone into rolling tones more common in the lower-income classes of large American cities. The first was her mother's influence, the second learned in childhood. Elena could also do a fine act of understanding only Swahili. He'd seen her use all three in different situations, with great success.

"If it isn't, you can't say I didn't tell you so," he muttered in response, and found he couldn't look away from the entrance sign for the Thunderhead track.

* * *

The familiar track looked smaller than it used to, and the car he threw against its curves felt slower. His faithful Mach Five couldn't do everything he asked of it, not after he'd grown accustomed to his father's new model, and especially since the Mach Five was still suffering the effects of both the Casa Cristo rally and his fury afterward. There had been no time for repairs in the frenzy surrounding the Grand Prix.

Pops was going to have a lecture for him when he got home, about taking out the damaged car as well as leaving so early in the morning with only a note to explain, Speed thought ruefully. He'd needed space to think, that was all. Space, and the car, and the track under him, and maybe the instinctive clarity that came with racing would help him make sense of all the complexities of life off the track.

He'd won, and yet the night's tremendous victory had left him strangely empty in the daylight. He'd won the Grand Prix. He'd exposed Royalton's driver for a cheater, and with a bit of luck Royalton would go down for it too. He had a right to feel proud of that, as his family had proclaimed.

And yet...he'd won the Grand Prix. He'd proven that the race of his childhood dreams was a fraud, and put all the most celebrated drivers of the World Racing League to shame.

As a racer, what did he have left to _do_ ? Where was the challenge now?

Speed accelerated out of the last turn, threw the car into a spin just for the motion of it, and straightened out in plenty of time to coast to a stop near the finish line, adrenaline draining away. He didn't really feel any closer to an answer than when he'd started, but if he stayed out much longer someone would wake up and find the note. He preferred going back on his own, rather than being dragged back by the worried, angry mob that his family was likely to become.

When he'd arrived, the track had been completely deserted, but now he was startled to see two figures waiting for him beside the gate, dim shapes in the early dawn light. He brought the car closer, trying to make out their faces. Reporters, most likely, he assumed with a sinking heart. The requests for interviews had come nonstop, and although Spritle was having the time of his life Speed had already begun wishing for a little more privacy.

Then he recognized the man who stood there, and stopped breathing. _Not_ reporters.

The competitive fire that had faded in the day and night since the Grand Prix flared up as easily as ever before, his heart pounding loud in his ears. He hadn't really expected to see Racer X again, certainly not so soon. But he recognized the challenge he needed, a driver he honestly respected as he could not respect the cheaters he'd defeated.

Speed shut down his engine and leapt out of the car, only belatedly noticing that Racer X was unmasked and out of uniform. The gray coverall made him look more like a mechanic than a driver. And his companion wore essentially the same thing, though it looked better on her, a beautiful woman of African descent. The one whose modifications to the Mach Five had saved him many times over in the Casa Cristo rally, he remembered.

He was just realizing that he had no idea what to say when Racer X smiled crookedly and nodded to the track. "Not your best performance there, Speed."

"I was distracted," Speed admitted, and grinned. "If I'd known you were here I might've put on a better show."

Racer X offered an open hand. "Alex Ryder," he introduced himself as Speed accepted the firm shake. "My wife, Elena."

Speed shook the woman's hand as well, feeling a little stunned. "Pleasure to meet you both," he managed. "May I, uh, may I ask what brings you here? You both...work with the C.I.B.?"

"Yes. And the Inspector is concerned for your family's safety," Elena Ryder answered. Somehow Speed had gotten the impression during Casa Cristo that she came from overseas, but he must have been mistaken; she sounded as though she could have grown up locally. "You've done a great deal to upset some rather vindictive people. The Inspector called your parents last night to set things up, and Alex and I will be working at Racer Motors for a while--just in case."

The helpless feeling was back again, and Speed liked it no better than the last time. It made sense that Royalton would not take his defeat peacefully, but the thought that the family might be endangered in their own home set a cold fury in him. He choked it down. There was no useful purpose for it here. "So Pops is going to hire you?" He remembered that conversation now, though he'd been expecting people more like the burly security guards from Casa Cristo.

Racer X--no, Alex, Speed reminded himself firmly--Alex said, "With the publicity you've brought to Racer Motors, he can use the help. A couple of extra mechanics can fill a lot of contracts."

"As a mechanic? Not as a driver?" Speed asked tentatively.

"Alex can't drive," Elena said, with careful emphasis on the name.

The man looked faintly irritable. "Not as a driver," he confirmed. "But I assure you I'm a perfectly good mechanic."

"We wanted to meet you here, Speed, because we knew you'd recognize us," Elena explained. "It's safer for everyone if we limit the number of people who know Alex's other job, and my connection to him."

"Plus it looked like I might give your little brother heart failure if he knew," Alex muttered. Speed chuckled. The whole house had heard Spritle's terrified warning the day Racer X and the Inspector had come.

On the whole, Speed found nothing objectionable in their offer. He didn't intend to lose this chance, though, not when it had been presented so neatly. "I won't tell anyone," he promised, and leaned forward to catch Alex with a challenging stare. "But I want a rematch with--I mean--with Racer X. Not in public. Just us."

The driver broke into a delighted grin that made him look years younger, the same grin that had so reminded Speed of his older brother the last time they'd met. "Racer X is looking forward to it, kid."

"There's plenty of time for that later," Elena said firmly. "We're assigned here for at least a month. First, Speed, we need to talk about Royalton."

He frowned at her. "What, you want my opinion of him? Because I think you know it."

Elena made an eloquent gesture of disgust. "I imagine we're agreed on that point. Are you willing to testify at his trial?"

Speed shrugged, puzzled. "Yeah, sure, I would, but I don't think I have anything useful to say. I don't have any proof against him."

"The case against the driver at Fuji is a lot stronger since you provided proof another of Royalton's drivers was using a spearhook against you," Alex said. "If you can testify that Royalton threatened you, it might not be enough to convict Royalton by itself, but it would help."

The race at Fuji when Speed had been taken out so early had been a terrible disappointment for the whole family, but worst of all because it had confirmed Royalton's threats. Speed hadn't even recognized the feel of the illegal spearhook, hadn't realized what happened until later, going over the replays. It was an unforgettable sensation, though. He'd known exactly what was happening when Cannonball Taylor tried it at the Grand Prix.

"Royalton said, if I didn't sign with him, I wouldn't even finish at Fuji," Speed recalled, slowly. "And he said the Grand Prix was always fixed. Is that enough?"

Elena folded her arms, with a slightly predatory smile. "From any other driver, probably not. People would say it was just an excuse for losing control. But the jury's going to believe you, Speed, because you're the hero who won the Grand Prix."

Speed ducked his head, abashed. That fact hadn't really settled yet: that other people were looking at him the same way as he used to admire past winners.

"Hey, kid." Speed blinked at Alex, whose voice was stern, but his eyes were kind. "You did more for us at the C.I.B. than anyone had a right to ask, and you drove that race with all your heart. If people call you a hero, it's because you deserve it." He tilted his head. "Of course, none of this means you're going to win that rematch."

The change of tone made Speed laugh, and the world felt suddenly far more manageable. "I've got to get home soon, or Pops might not let me come to the track all month. You can follow me back to the house." He hesitated, hand on the car door. "Have you got any advice for dealing with reporters?"

end part two


	3. Chapter 3

Protecting the Racers

by Dawn

Part Three

How, exactly, Elena had twisted Speed's simple question into an excuse to get her husband in the Mach Five for the trip to Racer Motors, Alex had no idea. As Racer X, he made it a special point never to speak to reporters at all, and as Alex Ryder no reporter looked twice.

Still, here he was, trying to dredge up useful suggestions, with more than half his attention occupied in suppressing any outward sign of the memories that flooded him.

It was Rex Racer who'd had to deal with reporters, and he didn't want to remember that time of his life. Not now.

And the last time he'd shared a car with Speed, his little brother had been too short to reach the pedals.

The Mach Five ran with an unhappy note to her engine, faithful but protesting the lack of maintenance. Alex patted her absentmindedly, shifting in his seat, and collected his scattered thoughts.

"...Pops says the big sponsors control the media," Speed was saying, "and the papers sure quit saying nice things quick after I turned Royalton down. But now everyone wants to talk to me, and I don't trust any of them, you know?"

It hurt that Speed had learned mistrust so quickly, and with such good cause. "You're in a better position now than you were," Alex said. "For this little while, any reporter who says anything bad about you is going to look like they're siding with the cheaters. You want to take advantage of that, because it won't last."

Speed nodded, biting his lip. "So I should do the interviews."

"A few, yeah." From Speed's expression, anyone would have thought he'd just been abandoned to the wolves. Alex sighed. "Look, it's not exactly my specialty, but I know the Inspector has people who keep track of the media. If you want, I'll ask him to suggest some reporters who are honestly on your side."

The boy's face brightened noticeably. "Thanks, Alex. I'd really--that would be nice."

Alex looked away, uncomfortable. "Works in our favor if you get good publicity before the trial," he dismissed it.

The words were curt enough to push Speed into pensive silence for several minutes, which Alex hadn't meant to do but felt unable to apologize for. It would be so easy to let himself fall into the role he'd missed the most all these years, into acting as Speed's big brother. And he couldn't do it--because the secret was already in enough danger, because he had no right to take back the role he'd abandoned, but mostly because he'd be leaving soon and couldn't let Speed grow too attached. The kid already seemed to have too high an opinion of Racer X.

"Your wife drives kinda slow," Speed remarked after a while, reducing the car's acceleration and checking his mirror to be certain Elena was still following.

Here was a fairly safe topic. "She does," Alex agreed ruefully. "She says it attracts less attention. Elena's really more comfortable working on a car than driving it, though."

Speed glanced at him. "She takes care of your car?"

"Racer X's car, yes," Alex corrected. "The Inspector has a team to help, of course, and I do some of it myself, but Elena's the one who puts the Shooting Star together and goes over every inch inside and out before a race. There's no one Racer X trusts more."

"Cool," Speed approved. "And I, uh, I'll do better about not giving you away. Honest."

Alex didn't smile, but it was a near thing. "I know you will."

The neighborhood around Racer Motors hadn't changed much in ten years, which Alex wasn't supposed to know. Speed pulled smoothly up the back drive and directly into the workshop, where the damaged car had probably been waiting for repairs. Elena parked out of the way on the edge of the cement drive, and came to meet them as they got out of the car. "The luggage can wait in the trunk until we know where it's going," she said.

Speed opened the kitchen door. "Come on in. I'm not sure anyone's awake yet, but they won't mind." He paused a moment on the mat inside to take off his shoes, dropping them into the box meant for them.

Their mother had set up that system long ago to stop him and Pops from tracking oil in, Alex remembered, but that wasn't the memory that gripped him strongly enough that he couldn't move. It was the sight of Speed's bright red socks as the kid headed for the counter. Speed wore red socks to the track? After all this time? Surely it was a coincidence.

Elena touched his arm, her eyebrows raised in silent concern. "Later," he breathed to her, and followed Speed inside, careful to wipe his shoes but not wanting to seem too familiar with the house by taking them off.

"Can I get you anything?" Speed asked politely, checking the refrigerator. "Orange juice? Milk? Have you had breakfast yet?"

They hadn't stopped for breakfast, but the thought of Speed cooking for him was somehow profoundly uncomfortable. Before he could come up with an answer, though, a familiar voice triggered another rush of memories. "Speed, you're up early."

_Mrs. Racer_ , he told his rebellious thoughts, _to you, she's Mrs. Racer, not Mom, never again_ .

"Oh," Mrs. Racer said, stopping in the door, "I wasn't expecting company this morning!" She was still in her nightgown, and she patted nervously at her hair.

"Mom, these are the agents from C.I.B.," Speed hastened to say, "Alex and Elena Ryder."

Elena jumped into the awkward pause. "Please, Mrs. Racer, don't feel that you have to go to any trouble for us. We're here to make sure you all stay safe, not as guests."

Her warm smile had its usual effect, and Mrs. Racer relaxed enough to return it. "You can call me Mom," she said, "everyone does. The Inspector said you'd be here for a month?"

"That's right." Alex offered a smile as well, but it was an emotionless professional one that Rex had never had cause to learn. "We apologize for arriving so suddenly, but we were ordered to come as quickly as possible."

Speed put in, "They're mechanics, they're going to help Pops finish more of the orders."

"We'll certainly be grateful for that," Mrs. Racer said, "although I have to warn you, you're going to have to convince my husband you know what you're doing. He's not at all sure that C.I.B. agents can be any use with his cars."

Elena chuckled, an infectious good-humored sound that provoked others to grin in response. "It will be an honor to work with your family. Your son's car is a work of art."

"We built the Grand Prix car in only thirty-two hours," Speed put in with justifiable pride. "Pops designed it."

Alex whistled softly. "Impressive." He'd recognized the car for a new design, but he'd figured it was one that had already been well along in the building process, if not finished. Putting a car together that fast would take every hand in the family, and require all of them to know exactly what they were doing. The fastest the Shooting Star could be rebuilt was a couple of weeks, which was why they kept two secretly ready to go at any given time. Racer Motors had improved since...no, _Alex_ had no way of knowing that.

Mrs. Racer moved over to the refrigerator. "I was going to make omelettes. Have you two eaten?"

"Not this morning," Elena admitted. "Please, let me help. I'm not much of a cook, but I can break eggs without getting shell in them."

Speed laughed, and it was all very relaxed and homey, and Alex suddenly couldn't bear it anymore. "I'm going to set up the security perimeter," he announced abruptly, and ducked out the kitchen door before Elena could talk him out of it.

He made it outside and got the trunk open before he had to take a moment to gather himself, leaning his forehead against the cool metal. It had been bad enough coming here with the Inspector, safely behind the mask of Racer X. How was he supposed to last an entire month with his heart insisting he belonged here, while he knew too well he never could?

Elena and the Inspector had some notion that he needed time with his family whether he wanted it or not, but the truth was that he wanted it far too much for it to be safe. Wanted to hug his mother, tease Speed about the red socks, greet Sparky with that stupid secret handshake that had been so cool when he was twelve. Meet his youngest brother as a brother, not a stranger. Tell his father how sorry he was that he'd been forced to abandon the family, and try to explain why it had been necessary.

He wanted all of it so badly that it hurt, a tight pain in his chest. And it could never happen, because Rex Racer was dead.

Alex gritted his teeth and dragged a breath in, past the constriction that had seized his throat. If he couldn't manage better control than this, the month was going to be a complete disaster.

_Focus on the job_ . His competing identities could fight it out later, but the one absolute was the safety of the family. He was here to protect the Racers, which he couldn't do if he fell apart.

He reached into the trunk of the car and pulled the case with the security systems out from under the two relatively small bags that held his and Elena's clothes. They hadn't packed many personal items, leaving more room to bring equipment to secure the house against any intruders. The sooner he got the outer perimeter set, the better.

He had spent perhaps half an hour checking and placing the sensors when Elena approached, carrying a plate and a cup of orange juice. Alex ate in silence, crouching on his heels and waiting for his wife to comment on his behavior. The omelette was perfectly done, and familiar; Mrs. Racer hadn't changed her recipe at all.

"I'm sorry, Alex," Elena said at last, as he was finishing. "I didn't realize how difficult this would be for you."

The orange juice became suddenly very interesting. "I just wanted to get the sensors up," he said, swishing it in the cup and watching it swirl.

She quirked him a smile that meant _Of course you have to say that_ . "Do you need me to help?"

Alex shook his head. "I'll have the perimeter complete in a few more minutes. You socialize, do your thing." One of them had to be reassuring and friendly, and it wasn't going to be him.

"Right." Elena took back the empty plate, held out a hand for the cup. "They're moving a cot into Speed's room for you, and I'm sleeping on the couch. They offered to shift Spritle to the couch and give us his room, but I thought this was probably better."

It made sense from the strategic point of view, with Elena watching the primary lines of travel through the house and him ready to defend Speed if necessary. It also meant he'd be spending even more time with Speed, which ought to have felt like an unnecessary risk but which he was dangerously pleased by. "That's fine." Alex drained the last of the juice and surrendered the empty cup. "Have you met...Mr. Racer yet?"

"Yes, everyone's awake now. He wants us in the workshop this morning, as soon as we finish 'being secret agents'." Her dark eyes went distant and thoughtful. "They're a good family, Alex. Exceptional. I was expecting it, but I don't think I ever really understood before."

"After you get the dishes in, you can start marking entrance points," he said gruffly. "We need to set the inner perimeter before tonight as well, and if we get it done early there's less chance anyone will notice."

Elena tilted her head and regarded him with an enigmatic expression, but walked away without further comment.

She'd known him too long, that was the trouble, Alex thought. None of the tricks that made Racer X look so unemotional fooled her anymore, if they ever had.

With a faint sigh, he picked up the case and moved to the next point. _Focus on the job_ .

* * *

As the younger woman in the household, Trixie usually claimed her requisite time in the bathroom early. She didn't consider herself vain, but she did like to look her best, especially since Speed managed to look ridiculously handsome even half-asleep with rumpled hair.

Which was his usual state in the mornings, so when she came out to the kitchen she was somewhat surprised to find him wide awake and wearing red socks. His eyes were bright, and there was a sense of barely contained energy about him that usually meant he was anticipating a race. The red socks were a dead giveaway that he'd already been to the track, because he only put those on just before he left.

It was a considerable change from the evening before, when he'd looked more like a lost puppy than the first independent driver ever to win the Grand Prix. She was pleased for him, of course, but it made her very curious what had happened.

The second surprise of the morning was the black woman in an unfashionable but practical mechanic's outfit, entertaining Spritle and Chim-Chim by juggling four oranges. Trixie blinked.

"Morning, Trixie!" Speed greeted, with a beaming smile. "Mom made omelettes. You better hurry before Spritle steals any more of yours."

Since this was accurate, Trixie sat down next to Speed without delay and dug into her food, which was in fact missing a fork-sized corner. She narrowed her eyes in Spritle's direction. Omelettes were worth defending.

"It was Chim-Chim," Spritle informed her seriously. "He didn't think Mom gave him enough."

Choosing to ignore this, Trixie mentioned instead, "I didn't know we were expecting company."

The black woman caught all the oranges neatly and set them down in the fruit bowl, with a friendly smile. "Elena Ryder," she said. "Call me Elena, please. My husband Alex and I are the agents the Inspector sent to see to your safety while Royalton's on trial."

"Oh," Trixie exclaimed. Elena Ryder didn't look anything like what she'd expected of a C.I.B. agent, but then if they all looked the same they wouldn't be much use, she supposed. She remembered the cover story they were using. "So you're a mechanic?"

Elena nodded. "One of the best the C.I.B. has, in fact. Though we've yet to see if that will meet Mr. Racer's standards," she added with a self-deprecating laugh.

Pops had been quite adamant about not letting the quality of Racer Motors products go down just to give security agents an excuse to hang around, Trixie remembered. Apparently he'd already given that speech to the agent. "Are you going to be working with us today, then?" The Mach Five still needed repairs, and requests had begun pouring in yesterday from people who'd seen Speed win the Grand Prix, more than they could possibly keep up with.

"After we finish the initial setup," Elena said. "It shouldn't take long. Alex is putting in the early-warning system now, and then we need to put sensors on all the ways into the house--doors and windows."

"D'you think ninjas are going to attack again?" Spritle demanded. He sounded more excited than frightened by the prospect.

Elena responded seriously, "I don't know. But it's our job to make sure that if they do, they won't hurt anyone."

The front door opened just then, and Trixie craned her head to see a tall, dark-haired man carefully wiping his feet on the mat. He carried a black case and looked stern and well-muscled, and generally much closer to her mental image of a secret agent in spite of the mechanic's coverall he wore. "Finished," he said, bringing the case into the kitchen and setting it down. "The outer perimeter's active."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Trixie asked, pausing in her breakfast.

The man looked at her with a cool, assessing stare. "You should all hear this," he decided, and drew out something that looked rather like a watch. "This is the early-warning system. It'll alert my wife and I if anyone enters the property. It gives a lot of false reads, since people do enter the property without meaning any harm, but the extra few seconds could be important. It also includes sensors that detect dangerous explosives or firearms, and the warning for that is quite loud--you would all hear it."

Trixie nodded slowly, feeling overwhelmed and seeing much the same expression on Speed's face.

"Of course we hope none of this is necessary," Elena put in, reassuringly calm, "but your safety is our first priority."

Alex Ryder went on, "The inner perimeter will only be active at night, and it's to let us know if anyone is actually breaking into the house, and where. It ties into your own home security, but it's more sensitive."

Trixie raised a hand slightly, more timid than she could remember being in a long time. Being aware of danger in general, and being reminded of all the different ways it could come, were two different things. "Mr. Ryder? What do we do if something does happen?"

"Alex," he corrected her, and the hint of a smile changed his whole demeanor into something much less forbidding. "We'll go over all the emergency procedures in detail later. First, if you three will help out, we can have the sensors up in no time." He shifted his gaze. "If that's all right with you, sir."

The people still sitting at the table all looked around to find Pops in the door to the workshop. "Go on," Pops agreed. "I want to see all of you in here once that's done." He grinned; there was a good deal of challenge in the expression. "We'll see how my new employees do."

They followed this course of action. It was really rather fun to run about finding all the possible entrances and helping to put the sensors on them, and Alex and Elena were much easier to work with than she'd feared C.I.B. agents might be. They started at the top and went down, working in teams, and as Alex had said, it didn't take long. Even Spritle had some notion of the serious nature of the task, and kept his dramatics to a minimum, though he soon got bored and wandered off.

"So you live here?" Elena asked at one point, as they made sure Trixie's own room was secure. It wasn't so neat as she would have liked, but Elena showed no sign of minding.

Trixie flushed uncomfortably. "I'm an employee of Racer Motors," she explained. "I, uh...my dad was pretty upset when I decided to do this instead of going to the university."

The older woman squeezed Trixie's shoulder in a brief expression of sympathy, and was tactful enough to change the subject.

* * *

They were almost finished securing the house by the time they came to Speed's room. Mom had already gotten someone (probably Sparky) to move the extra cot in, Speed saw without surprise, and it was neatly made up. "Do you want to bring your stuff in here?" he turned to ask Alex.

The agent was still in the doorway, his expression strangely blank. Speed followed his eyes to the walls, which were almost entirely covered in racing posters.

Speed's forcible disillusionment about the state of professional racing was still too fresh for the pain to have faded. "If you know the inside stories to all these wins, I'd really rather you not tell me," he said, bitterness welling up to taint the words. "Royalton already told me all about the Forty-Third Grand Prix."

"Did he," Alex said, examining the poster that still lay crumpled by the door. "How it was fixed?"

The memory was too vivid to forget. "How the whole point was for Iodine Industries to get a good deal on a merger."

Alex nodded. "It's one of the worse failures in C.I.B. history," he admitted. "I've heard of it. Carl Potts was a good driver. Didn't deserve to die that way."

"Die?" Speed echoed, frowning. "Royalton just said he didn't finish."

The older man snorted in disgust. "That figures. The man has no respect for life." His gaze had shifted to the trophies that said _Rex Racer_ in bold letters. "Potts was too competitive, too good a driver, and he wanted that win. His sponsor didn't trust him to do as he was told, so they sabotaged his car. He never really recovered from the injuries, or the heartbreak. Died a year later."

Speed stared at Alex in horror.

"Of course there was no proof of any of it," the agent went on. "Potts was willing enough to talk privately to the C.I.B. agents of the time, but he wouldn't have testified in court even if a jury would have believed him. He had a family to worry about."

The worst part was that he had no trouble at all believing Alex. "That's why Rex left us, isn't it?" he said, resting a white-knuckled hand on his older brother's trophy from Thunderhead. "So that he could testify, and we'd--we'd be safe." He looked up. "You must have known him. Seen him drive, at least."

Alex sighed. "I knew your brother," he acknowledged wearily. "He was working with the C.I.B., though we tried not to make that public. I've always regretted what happened at Casa Cristo. Whoever sabotaged that car knew what they were doing."

"You didn't seem too worried about sabotage when we--when I raced at Casa Cristo," Speed said, raising his eyebrows.

The faintest smile imaginable softened his face. "I wasn't worried, because Elena was watching the cars."

_There's no one Racer X trusts more_ , he'd said on the drive from the track, and Speed was beginning to understand how valuable it was to have mechanics you could trust absolutely.

"Come on, let's get this window sealed," Alex changed the subject abruptly, stepping across the room.

It was something of a mess, because Speed hadn't taken the time to gather his laundry for several days. There'd been no space for ordinary cleaning between returning from Casa Cristo and the furious preparations for the Grand Prix. He tried to kick things under the bed without being too obvious about it.

"You've got a lot of red socks," Alex noted, busy with the window.

Speed ducked his head. "It's kind of a tradition," he muttered. The local drivers he'd regularly competed against had teased him about his socks right up till he'd figured out their private superstitions.

Alex didn't tease, though, saying only, "Finished. Let's go."

"Wait a minute--please." Speed licked his lips, trying to put into words the feelings that had been troubling him ever since Royalton's horrible predictions had begun to come true. "Alex...Royalton seemed so sure that racing was all about money, and...not that I want to trust _Royalton_ , but...is he right?"

The older man stopped beside the door, his back to Speed. "What do you suppose is the most important thing in the world to Royalton?"

It would have been obvious enough to go unsaid, but Speed voiced it anyway. "Money. Power."

Alex half-turned, smiling at him, a proud little smile that once again reminded Speed painfully of Rex. "Racing's no different from anything else," Alex told him. "Royalton believes racing is about money because he believes everything is about money."

Speed remembered the man trying to compliment Mom's pancakes by buying the recipe, and knew it was an accurate description. "But I've put the family in danger, haven't I, by winning? That's why you're here. So what good has it done?"

"Don't think like that, Speed." The words were sincere, voice almost unguarded. "You did the right thing." He gestured toward the posters. "Doesn't matter what any of those drivers did or didn't do; from now on kids will have an honest driver to look up to. That's worth something. And your family wouldn't want it any other way."

Warmth chased away Speed's doubts, and he smiled, and received an instant's affection in return, plain in the man's dark eyes.

Then Alex turned away sharply. "We should go," he said, voice suddenly flat as a stranger's, as though friendship and sincerity were scarce resources in danger of running out if displayed too often.

Speed shook his head and followed, willing to accept the man's eccentricities for the sake of the brief glimpses. Had to be a hard life, being Racer X and also a C.I.B. agent. He was grateful enough for the trust he'd been shown that he didn't want to push.

* * *

Walking into Speed's room, once Rex Racer's room, had been like stepping back in time. Those posters--Rex had collected those posters, had taken great delight in lecturing Speed about every driver. And the socks! _A tradition_ , Speed had said, which meant that his little brother was still remembering that private joke--that they'd survived the crash because Speed was wearing red socks.

Alex squeezed his eyes shut and raised a hand to rub his forehead, where an ache had begun forming some time ago.

"Hey."

He looked up. It was the youngest Racer boy, Spritle, who thankfully didn't look or act enough like Speed to make things any worse than they were already. The little brother he could never meet.

The kid wore an expression somewhere between suspicion and awe, as though he couldn't decide which was more appropriate. "Are you really a secret agent?" he asked.

"I'm really a secret agent," he confirmed. "But remember, you can't tell anyone that. To everyone but your family, I'm just a mechanic."

The boy took on a look of deeply offended pride. "We know that," he said, "don't we, Chim-Chim?"

The chimpanzee nodded rapidly in agreement. The animal, Alex knew, was actually the product of an experimental process meant to create monkeys who would bond well with a single human, do things the human couldn't, and understand what was wanted of them, without causing the usual troubles an animal might. They were meant primarily to help the disabled. How Spritle had managed to bond with one was no doubt a fascinating story that he wanted very much to hear, especially Pops' reaction to it...

"Good. Remember it," he told the boy curtly, and walked away.

"He's not really very friendly," Alex heard Spritle remark to his pet--friend--whatever category the chimp best fit. A short pause. "I guess he has to be that way because he's a secret agent. It must be hard hiding stuff all the time."

_You have no idea, kid_ .

end part three


	4. Chapter 4

Protecting the Racers

by Dawn

Part Four

The week that followed was mostly uneventful. It didn't take long for Pops to recognize that his new mechanics were passably skilled and able to take direction well, and they made swift progress in the workshop. Speed gave two interviews with reporters the Inspector suggested, both at the house, and the news reports that followed were uniformly favorable.

"'Racer Motors has built every car I've driven since my first go-cart,'" Sparky read aloud from the paper with deep satisfaction, the morning after the second interview. "'I couldn't possibly sign with anyone else.'"

"Like we don't know that," Spritle snorted.

Sparky waved the paper at him. "The point is, they _printed_ it."

Speed shared a smile with Trixie and scooped up his last bite of French toast and syrup. He looked at it for a moment, thoughtfully. "Hey, Mom? You should make pancakes tomorrow." There had been no pancakes since Royalton's visit, by mutual consent.

His mother frowned at him. "Speed, you were the first one to say you didn't want them for a while."

"I know," he agreed, "but your pancakes are really good, and Royalton's got no right to ruin them for us just because he's a disgusting person."

Pops slapped the table hard enough that the juice in their glasses leaped. "That's the spirit, son!"

It made Mom smile. "All right, Speed, we'll have pancakes." Most of the plates were empty now, and she began to collect them.

"No, Mom, let me get the dishes," Elena volunteered. To Speed, she felt more like one of the family every day, working hard to get along with everyone--and to smooth the irritation Alex regularly left in his wake. He kept up a habit of sudden, brief disappearances without much or any explanation, and Pops didn't like it. Elena, apologetic and tactful as always, had explained that Alex wasn't comfortable around people, but he was very good at his job. Pops had reluctantly accepted it.

Right now, Alex's absence had more excuse than usual, because the Inspector had called. Alex walked back into the room, looking concerned.

Speed frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked. Mild concern in Alex's expression would probably be intense worry for anyone else.

"The Inspector would like Speed to give his deposition early tomorrow," Alex said. "They're sending a helicopter around midnight tonight to bring him to the Courthouse." They'd all heard the process Speed would be going through in order to testify; the prosecutor was collecting evidence now, and needed to know exactly what Speed had to say. It was an official record that could be used in place of later testimony in person, if necessary, and Royalton would want to stop it if at all possible.

The room went silent. "You ought to let us come with him," Pops said. The family couldn't come; the answer had already been given several times, and Speed agreed with the reasoning behind it. He didn't want his family at risk if Royalton's thugs did try something, and a smaller helicopter wasn't as likely to be noticed.

Alex didn't repeat any of it now. "I'll bring him back safe," he said, a deadly serious tone in his voice that made his sincerity impossible to doubt. "You have my word."

Speed swallowed hard, and managed to smile. "It'll be fine," he assured them. "Nobody even knows I'm doing it. Right?"

"That's the idea," Elena agreed.

He nodded firmly. "So it'll be fine." No one looked terribly convinced. Speed pushed his chair back. "If I'm gonna be up so late and then give a deposition, I better get some rest today." It was a transparent excuse to retreat, but no one contested it as he headed to his room.

It had been a good week, he thought, shutting his door. When no one else was listening Alex had proved surprisingly willing to talk about some of his experiences as Racer X, and Speed was very much looking forward to the promised race. Elena, Trixie, and Mom had become close confidants, too, with an amount of giggling that was rather worrisome. Even Spritle thought their secret-agent guests were very cool. Pops resented the necessity, but liked their work.

It had been a good week. They'd get through this, and then there would be three more good weeks to look forward to. And that rematch.

There was no reason for this to feel like the end of the world, Speed told himself. After all, Racer X would be protecting him. What could happen?

* * *

The black helicopter the Inspector sent was even more whisper-silent than Trixie's little pink ride, in spite of the inevitable wind it created. Alex waited by its door while Speed finished hugging everyone, gave Trixie an extra kiss, and finally walked over. He gave the kid a hand up, and paused a moment, meeting Elena's eyes.

_Be safe,_ she shaped the words but didn't try to shout them across the distance. _I love you_ .

He smiled and inclined his head once, knowing she would understand. It had been too dangerous for too long for either of them to ever be comfortable showing much affection in public.

The Racer family stood watching with worried faces, and Mrs. Racer had her arms around her youngest, much to his disgust. Spritle and Chim-Chim had discussed their plans to sneak aboard the helicopter a bit too loud near two trained agents.

_I'll bring Speed home safe,_ Alex reaffirmed his promise, and shut the door.

Speed was already in the center seat, the safest place in the vehicle, and Alex took a moment to check the safety features. The Kwiksave foam that so frequently kept drivers from injury or death was installed routinely in most vehicles, and in this particular model, one used for some of the most important passengers, there was a manual release that would bring them safely down in the event of some catastrophic failure. It looked in good order.

"Ready, sir?" the pilot asked, and Alex gave the thumb-up signal to go. Alex recognized the man by sight as an ally, though he'd never bothered to learn his name, and was pretty sure the man also knew him by sight but not by name. There was never any telling when you'd have to switch identities, working for the C.I.B., so names were often a waste of time.

The ground fell away from them with a smooth motion that took an experienced pilot, and Alex settled into his chair for the ride.

Speed looked a little pale, and more nervous than before the Casa Cristo race. Alex touched his shoulder. "It'll only be a little while before we get there," he assured. "And I thought we might drive back." He added a very slight squeeze.

Excitement flushed the young man's face a better color, making it clear he'd instantly understood the implications of bringing Alex's car back with them. "I'd like that," he said, the forced-casual tone a far cry from the sparkle in his eyes.

Alex grinned at him, anticipating the challenge every bit as much as Speed plainly was.

"I'm okay, really," Speed added, face turning faintly apologetic. The effort at distracting him wasn't nearly subtle enough to have gone unnoticed. "I just...I have a bad feeling, is all."

"So do I," Alex admitted, "but then I always do when I'm riding in a helicopter."

Speed raised an eyebrow. "You don't like flying?"

He shook his head. "I never have." That was safe enough, because Rex had never flown enough to develop an opinion. It was several crashes while working for the C.I.B. that left him with the lingering discomfort, though thankfully no visible scars.

"You're scared of heights!" Speed accused, sounding delighted.

Alex frowned at him, more for effect than actual displeasure. "No, I am not scared of heights, I just don't like flying."

When both their bad feelings were validated, there was no warning.

A shriek of tearing metal, and Alex reacted without thought, throwing himself across Speed as the vehicle shattered around them. The pilot's choked scream cut off too suddenly.

Speed's pained cry came at the same time as Alex's hand reached the Kwiksave. The foam encapsulated both of them together, and there was only darkness for an endless moment, darkness and they were falling, falling or weightless, there was no difference, spinning together. "Speed?" Alex gasped, desperate for some sign of life from the boy who rested limply against him.

There was no answer.

The impact, when it came, jarred all through him but not painfully, the bubble doing its job and absorbing virtually all the stress. The second impact was too much for it, though, and it broke apart, with a wet squelch, abandoning its inhabitants in the mud.

Alex's breath was knocked from him, but he scrambled up with frantic haste, groping blindly for any pulse point that would assure him his brother was still alive. "Speedy, don't you give up on me," he ordered hoarsely, panting, and almost collapsed with the relief when Speed groaned in response.

There was a flashlight in his pocket, he remembered, and dug it out, hoping it still worked. The dim bulb, when it lit, nearly blinded him for a moment. "Speed, if you can hear me, you need to tell me where it hurts," he said.

"Leg," Speed whispered, eyes wide and dark in a pale, mud-stained face. "It's my left leg. Mostly my leg."

He shone the flashlight toward the indicated area, and winced in sympathetic pain. A piece of shrapnel was lodged in Speed's calf muscle. "It isn't broken," he told Speed, trying to sound reassuring. "You'll make it to that rematch in a couple of weeks. Don't worry, I can wait."

Speed heaved a painful laugh. "Good to hear."

Alex pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. Either the impact or the water or both had damaged it enough that it didn't even bother to light up for him. They were completely out of contact.

Theoretically, he ought to leave the fragment of metal where it was until a doctor could remove it and stop any bleeding. Right now, though, matters were too urgent to allow for waiting around. That hadn't been any kind of mechanical failure; the helicopter had been struck by a missile, which meant someone in Royalton's pay was out here and probably looking for survivors. He and Speed needed to move, fast.

Not to mention that they were both wet, and cold, with little hope of either condition changing in the near future. The mud had soaked them both thoroughly enough that at first he'd failed to notice the light, insistent rain that was falling on his back and head, but he noticed it now. Hypothermia was not a risk, but a near-certainty. If they didn't get to shelter soon, they might as well have died in the helicopter.

"You've got some metal stuck in your leg," he told Speed. "I'm going to pull it out and wrap it the best I can to stop the bleeding. Then we've got to get out of here."

Speed nodded silent understanding, gritting his teeth in preparation. Alex took off the light jacket he was wearing, the most convenient thing to hand for a makeshift binding, and yanked out the shrapnel with a swift, smooth motion. Speed didn't cry out, but he couldn't suppress the small noise from the back of his throat.

Blood followed, but thankfully not in the quantities that would mean a major blood vessel was involved. Alex shut his eyes for a split-second in gratitude for small favors, and began to wrap the leg tightly.

"Alex?" Speed whispered. "What happened to the helicopter?"

He grimaced, knowing Speed couldn't see the expression in the dark. "We were shot down, Speed. I guess I ought to listen to your bad feelings."

"No wonder you don't like flying," Speed joked weakly. "Don't think I like it much, either."

"We're definitely driving back," Alex agreed. He closed his eyes, trying to draw up a picture of the area the helicopter had been crossing over. They were at a higher elevation here, which was why it was considerably colder than when they left, and there were few major roads and even fewer people.

Disoriented from the crash, the only direction Alex could be sure of was downhill. It would do. Downhill, no more than a few miles given how short a time they'd traveled in the helicopter, there had to be roads, cars. If he could just get to a car, he could get Speed to a hospital in no time.

"Come on, Speed," he encouraged, ignoring his own aches. "You need to get up. Lean on me, try not to put your weight on that leg."

It was an awkward process, but they both made it upright, Speed biting his lip in pain. Alex took most of his weight and began the slow walk down the slope, flashlight giving barely enough light to avoid the worst of the rough ground.

_I'll get you home safe, Speed, I swear_ .

end part four


	5. Chapter 5

Protecting the Racers

by Dawn

Part Five

Since there was no chance she'd get any sleep, Trixie had opted to stay up and work on her helicopter instead. The trim pink vehicle was her very own, title in her name and expenses paid out of her salary, and she was quite fond of it. Several of the more expensive upgrades had been Speed's idea of suitable gifts for his girlfriend's birthday, which was perfectly fine since it happened to be what she'd really wanted.

Mom and Pops had made some show of going to bed in order to get Spritle to do so, but it didn't surprise Trixie to look up and find Elena on the edge of the little rooftop landing pad.

"Hey, Trixie," Elena greeted softly on being noticed.

Trixie mustered up a smile. "Hey, Elena."

"Need any help?" the older woman offered. "With the helicopter. Or just company. I could use company."

The night was terribly quiet. "Company's good." Trixie had been pleasantly surprised at how swiftly Elena had become a friend, mostly because the agent had shown a deep, honest interest in the Racer family, but also because she was just nice to be around.

Elena's smile was very white in the dimness outside the worklight's illumination. "What are you working on?"

"Tweaking the sensors." Trixie furrowed her eyebrows at the board. "Radar, infrared, the works. It's a secondhand sensor unit--good quality, but it takes a lot of maintenance."

"What model is--" Elena began to ask, then cut herself off with a frown and reached for her personal phone. which had apparently vibrated its signal. Trixie watched her soft, urgent conversation and lost all concentration as Elena's calm shattered into a look of burning fury.

Elena slammed the phone shut and violently cursed Royalton's entire family tree.

It was the first time Trixie had ever known Elena to use foul language of any kind, but it took no interpretation. "What happened to Speed?" she demanded, terrified.

"They don't know," Elena growled. "The helicopter went down in the mountains. It's raining there."

Trixie's mind sped instantly to all the worst-case possibilities, and tears sprang to her eyes. "They've got to be alive," she insisted. "We've got to go and find them!"

Elena nodded shortly. "We're the closest. Get your helicopter started. I'll tell Pops he's in charge of security here."

Leaping for the keys, Trixie didn't even think to question the order in her relief that she wouldn't be left behind. As Elena sprinted back with an armful of coats and blankets, she belatedly wondered what the agent had said to Mom and Pops, but then Elena was in and Trixie gunned her little vehicle up and forward. _Hang on, Speed, I'm coming!_

* * *

They'd slid and almost fallen at least a dozen times, but they were making progress. Alex had taken more and more of Speed's weight as they went on, though, and the kid was shivering violently. The rain soaked them both to the skin, and Speed's blood loss wasn't helping him any. He was growing dangerously cool to the touch, Alex knew.

"I should have been more careful with you at Casa Cristo," he panted. It had stopped being a conversation some time ago and turned into a struggle to get monosyllables out of Speed, just to keep him aware. "Wasn't expecting ninjas. Should've been. My fault if anything had happened."

Speed only grunted faintly.

As that subject didn't seem to be working at all anymore, Alex changed track entirely. "Tried to give you a fair shot at Fuji. My job, you know, trying to keep the cheaters from, you know, cheating. Too badly." He paused, realizing that this last was slightly lacking in clarity and elegance of style, but shrugged mentally and went on. "Didn't do you much good, though. Sorry about that."

"Alex?" It was barely audible over the rain.

"Yeah, Speed?"

"I...I don't think I can...You should go."

It was the fifth time Speed had tried to convince him of this since they'd heard gunshots in the distance and knew their pursuit was too close for comfort. Alex had ignored him, of course, but this time Speed seemed determined to collapse and Alex had to shift his weight to keep the boy from going down entirely.

Speed was terribly pale, and the shivers had become erratic, sign of a body almost ready to give up on the whole business of trying to be warm. "Don't do this to me, Speedy," he pleaded, soft-voiced, bending to get solidly underneath his brother. "You've got to stay with me."

"Rex?" Speed whispered.

He blinked away tears, and accepted the name for the first time in ten years. "Yeah, Speedy. Yeah, it's me." A heave, and Speed was safely across his shoulders as he continued to pick his way down toward safety. "Lied to you before. I shouldn't have done that. C'mon, tell me you're mad at me. Just stay awake, okay?"

His brother's voice was hardly a breath. "Missed you, Rex."

"I know. I know. I missed you, too, Speedy."

"Should've been...wearing...red socks."

The tears wouldn't stay away, mixing with the rain on his face. "Yeah, guess you should've."

Speed felt terribly limp. Rex tightened his grip on his brother's hand, feeling the pulse in the chilled wrist as his own lifeline. "I never wanted to leave you, Speedy. Need you to know that. Come on. Answer me."

The pause was so long that Rex almost gave up, then his brother whispered, "Wanted you to be proud of me."

"Always, Speed. Always." He rubbed a rough hand up Speed's arms, all he could reach. "But you've got to stay with me, you hear?"

Speed let out a tiny grumbling sigh, and it almost made Rex smile, because it was so exactly the sound Speed had always made as a child when he didn't want to wake up. "I know, but you've got to. What am I going to tell Mom and Pops if I lose you, huh? You wouldn't want Pops to kill me, not after you went to all this trouble getting me to admit who I am."

The slope steepened without warning, and Rex gasped and half-slid down it, only just managing not to lose hold of his precious burden. But the sound of the rain was different ahead, water on asphalt. "See there, Speed?" he continued. "There's the road. You can't give up on me now."

But the road was empty, and his brother was quiet.

* * *

The cloud cover was a low, murky fog, not good for visibility, but without any lightning to pose a threat. Trixie stayed under it, skimming above the patchy trees while the rain pattered on the helicopter's clear shields. "Where?" she called to Elena over the noise. They'd found the crash site, but infrared showed no heat there, and they weren't prepared to give up hope the young men were alive.

"Follow the road first!" Elena replied. "If either of them has any idea where they are, I bet you they head straight for a road. It's their natural habitat."

Trixie obediently steered in that direction, though the phrasing made her frown. Speed, yes, anyone could see that, but Alex was a mechanic, not a--

The shock of realization dipped the copter faster than she'd meant to, and she had to pull up hastily to avoid a treetop. No wonder Speed and Alex had been getting on so well together, no wonder Alex was so protective of everyone! "He's Racer X, isn't he?" she yelled. It made perfect sense now, why Elena was so willing to make excuses for her husband--she knew exactly why being around the Racers was so uncomfortable for him. Racer X...Rex Racer. Mask or not, she should have recognized him!

Elena grimaced. "He's going to be furious with me for letting it slip!" she told Trixie. "Please--I swore I'd let him decide whether and when to tell."

"I won't tell anyone," Trixie assured her, hoping desperately that Alex--Rex--whoever was still around to be furious. He wouldn't let any harm come to Speed if he could possibly help it, she was certain of that.

The highway was just ahead, and she turned to follow it down past the crash. The Kwiksave would have gone downhill. "Anything?"

Elena was watching the sensor board. "There!" she cried triumphantly. Trixie squinted out, but couldn't see anything through the rain. "Set down on the road here!" Elena directed.

Trixie did, lighting as gently as possible and cutting the rotors. Now she saw the patch of heat on the board, and the bedraggled figures were reassuringly familiar but terrifyingly still.

They both leapt from the copter and rushed to the Racer brothers. Alex had pulled Speed into an embrace as though the younger was still the child of nine he'd been when Rex left, and in the helicopter's lights they were pale with the cold. But they were both alive, Trixie saw happily, throwing her arms around Speed. He looked like he needed all the warmth he could get. "How are we going to get them into the helicopter?" she worried.

"Alex!" Elena said, in a commanding tone. "Wake up!"

It worked; Alex blinked awake, though his eyes were bleary and confused. Elena guided him into the helicopter mostly under his own power, then came back to help carry the unresponsive Speed. "Hospital," she ordered, looking almost as grim as when they'd been searching. "Fast."

* * *

The hospital had never been Alex's favorite place to wake up, but it beat never waking up at all. The feeling of being dry and warm was definitely something he shouldn't take for granted so often, he thought, carefully stretching sore muscles. He'd have liked to sleep longer, but there was something he had to do--

_Speed_ , he remembered, and the chill of fear brought him upright and completely alert.

"It's all right, Alex," Elena's voice assured him, in the lilting accent that was her normal speech just between them, and her beautiful smile was unshadowed. "Speed is just fine. You brought him to the road, and we rescued you both." She tilted her head across the room, and he looked to see Speed sound asleep, with Trixie sitting in a chair beside but draped tiredly half across the bed.

He let himself relax a little. "Do you know what happened?"

Her mobile expression went coldly furious, and her accent went flatter than usual. "Yes. The C.I.B. found the man who was bribed to plant a tracker on the helicopter. We couldn't find whoever actually fired the missile, it looks like they left as soon as they found the crash site. It's possible they didn't know who their target was. The pilot might have survived the crash, but the search teams found him full of bullets."

Alex clenched a fist in frustration, remembering gunshots in the dark. "No way of connecting it to whoever was giving the orders."

"No."

It was the usual problem the C.I.B. had, knowing entirely too much and completely unable to prove anything. But Speed was alive, so in Alex's book this was going down as a win.

As usual, Elena had no trouble following his thoughts; it was probably the fixed stare that had given him away. "The doctor says he should stay on crutches for a day or two while that leg heals, but it's not serious."

"Where are the rest of the Racers?" he asked, well aware that nothing would keep them from Speed's bedside for long.

"On their way," Elena said. "Given the circumstances, the Inspector wanted them to drive."

Alex nodded, and was about to ask how long exactly he'd slept when the sound of Speed's muffled voice silenced him. "Trix?" the kid murmured sleepily.

"Speed," the dark-haired girl answered, with a yawn in her voice, and sat up. "I was about to fall asleep waiting on you to wake up. You're fine, you're in the hospital," she quickly answered the unvoiced question, "and Alex is fine, too. He carried you to where we could rescue you."

A moment's pause. "Oh," Speed said, and there was a heartbreaking note of disappointment in the single syllable. "Alex, of course."

Trixie frowned at him, puzzled.

The young driver lowered his voice to admit, "I was...I thought it might have been...thought Rex was there."

The look Trixie shot across the room was sharp enough to have cut through a carbon bond, leaving Alex in no doubt that she'd figured out the truth. But to her boyfriend she said only, "That's understandable, Speed," voice gentle.

Elena patted his arm, with a sidelong look of guilt. "I may have accidentally given you away to Trixie," she confessed.

"It doesn't matter now," he said quietly.

The dawn of sudden hope in her brown eyes made him feel horribly selfish. Had he managed to forget how desperately Elena had always wanted the kind of family she hadn't been a part of since her mother's death? And he'd been bound and determined to keep his from her, because he was too stubborn to admit when he'd been wrong.

It had been obvious from the first day at the house that the Racer family had never really let go of Rex, not as he'd expected them to by now. Keeping the secret from the public was all well and good, but he had no excuse for keeping his survival from his family except that the thought of the confrontation terrified him. And that wasn't enough reason. Not nearly enough reason for him to leave that grief in his brother's voice any longer.

Getting out of the bed was an awkward process, but Elena supported him as he made his way over to the other side of the room. Some kind of female telepathy brought Trixie out of her chair with a smile of absolute delight, and Rex sat down in it as the women moved unobtrusively to the hall.

And now that the decision was made, and Speed was looking curiously at him, he couldn't seem to find any words at all.

"I owe you an apology," he finally began, fiddling nervously with the edge of the hospital blanket.

Speed frowned, but didn't interrupt, for which Rex was very grateful. He wasn't sure he would be able to start over. "That night, at Thunderhead. You were right about me, and I shouldn't have lied to you."

Understanding and disbelieving shock met with a rather spectacular crash in Speed's expression, his eyes going impossibly wide. "You mean you really _are--_ ?"

Looking into his brother's gaze was more difficult than anything he'd ever done, but he had to let Speed see the truth of his words. "My face was too well known, and it was important that no one recognize me. The Inspector arranged for me to have plastic surgery done."

"Rex," Speed whispered, and in his face, where Rex had expected to find fury for the years-long lie, there was only an impossible joy that lit up the room.

The tears in his eyes didn't seem to matter now. "I never wanted to leave any of you, Speedy, but I was afraid for you. For everyone. And I had to do something."

Speed looked down at his hands, thoughtfully twisting the sheet. "You weren't going to tell us at all, were you?" he said. "Before this happened."

He winced. "I didn't think I should complicate things." The excuse sounded terribly hollow now.

"So, before you figured out what an idiot you'd been," and his brother's fond smile took the sting out of the words, "why did you come? I mean, to stay with us and all? It could have been any agent protecting us."

"Because my wife is smarter than me," he said, with a rueful smile, and added, "I think you've got a girl like that. You want to appreciate her."

Speed grinned. "Oh, I do," he agreed. "So you and Elena, you really are married?"

"Oh, yes." Rex ducked his head. "Five years now. You've got a sister-in-law. It's a good thing you seem to like her."

"But no nieces or nephews?" Speed asked, face very serious.

Rex choked. "No, Speed, I don't have any kids! I'm not hiding _that_ many secrets," he insisted plaintively.

His brother patted him on the shoulder. "You know Mom's going to ask," he warned. "I just wanted you to be ready."

It took a moment to process this. "You're teasing me!"

Speed turned a little pink, but there was a definite smirk on his face. "I have a lot of time to make up for," he pointed out, an echo of grief entwining the humor.

"Yeah." Rex pulled him into a rough hug, and rubbed his knuckles across the dark head as he'd wanted to do for more than ten years. "We both do."

end part five


	6. Chapter 6

Protecting the Racers

by Dawn

Part Six

Trixie eyed the door to the hospital room the brothers shared with mixed feelings as the minutes rolled past. On the one hand, it seemed awfully mean to interrupt such a long-delayed reunion. On the other hand...

Well, the family was coming.

A while ago, the Inspector had called Elena to inform her that he'd gone himself to pick up the rest of the Racer family and deliver them to the hospital. Trixie thought this was terribly brave of him, considering the kind of mood Pops was likely to be in.

The hallway wasn't exactly an appropriate place to discuss secret identities, so she and Elena had mostly just been exchanging delighted grins and watching the clock. Trixie had always wanted a sister, and Elena was the very best kind: someone who shared many of her interests but wasn't rude or condescending about anything. And a secret agent on top of it!

Plus Trixie kind of thought Elena had maybe always wanted a sister, too. And that made them fit together nicely. A good thing, since Trixie couldn't imagine _not_ marrying Speed.

Since Elena was the secret agent with all the experience handling Alex/Rex/Racer X or the identity of the day, Trixie left it to her to decide when to go in. The timing was just about what she would have done, anyway.

Trixie couldn't help smiling at the sight of the brothers, now laughing together in honest joy. It was quite a change from the stoic agent Alex had tried so hard to be all week.

"The other members of the Racer family will arrive at the hospital any minute," Elena announced briskly, closing the door behind her. "Alex, giving your parents heart attacks would be a poor greeting. You'd better figure out what you're going to say."

At this reminder, the man looked rather like a deer caught in the headlights of a very fast car. "Pops is going to _kill_ me," he muttered.

"He will not," Speed contradicted at once. "He's really gotten better about not saying things he doesn't mean. Ever since--" He stopped rather suddenly.

It was a little too clear what the end of the sentence would have been, though, and Rex grimaced.

Elena held up one finger. "Alex, the Inspector has authorized me to give you permission to tell your family what happened ten years ago at Casa Cristo. I think you should begin there."

Rex nodded slowly. "They should know," he agreed, "but I don't think...I can't..."

"I can tell the beginning," she offered. "But you're the one they will need to hear in the end."

"Yeah," he sighed, gritting his teeth as though he were preparing to plunge into boiling oil.

Speed looked worriedly at his newfound brother. "It really will be okay," he said in reassurance.

Feeling that she had to second that somehow, Trixie put in, "Pops really doesn't stay mad for very long. It'll be fine." Alex's expression was so torn that it felt like she were intruding on something she had no right to see. "I'll wait outside for them," she volunteered.

The hallway hadn't gotten any more interesting since last time. It wasn't very long, though, before she heard the approaching thunder of the Racer family at their highest setting.

Pops led the brigade, and the inspector had almost kept up with him, which was impressive. Behind came Mom, Sparky, Spritle, and Chim-Chim.

Trixie made her smile very bright to begin the long process of calming them down from full panic mode. "Speed's just fine!" she said. "He woke up a little while ago, and he's got a cut in his leg, but the doctor says he'll only need crutches for a couple days."

It didn't slow them noticeably, but it did soften the worry on their faces. She opened the door for them.

"Speed!" Spritle exclaimed, leaping for the bed. Alex only just prevented the child from landing on Speed's injured leg. "I was so worried--and we would've been here sooner but they looked at Chim-Chim's papers _three_ times before they would let us in--"

Chim-Chim was registered as a handicap-assist and was therefore permitted into the hospital, as long as his companion showed papers certifying that Chim-Chim was well-behaved and that if he caused any trouble, it was entirely his human's idea. Allowing the whole group in at this time of day, though, had probably taken some string-pulling by the Inspector, Trixie thought.

"It's a good thing they don't ask for Spritle's papers, or we'd never get in," Sparky muttered, to which Spritle protested loudly.

The Inspector had hung back, standing just inside the door, beside Trixie. There were shadows of guilt on his face, and Trixie realized he must be all too aware that his efforts to uphold justice had very nearly cost this family two sons.

"Alex is going to tell them," she whispered to him as she closed the door, feeling he had a right to the warning. "Speed already knows."

A relieved smile creased his face. "Good," he breathed.

The confusion of greeting Speed and making sure he was really alive and well had finally begun to calm when Speed announced, "Alex and Elena have something they need to tell everyone. It's about Rex."

Alex looked somewhat less than well-prepared for the undivided attention this brought, but Elena squeezed his hand. "It's time you all heard everything that happened at Casa Cristo ten years ago," she said. "Please, sit down."

"Inspector?" Pops rumbled questioningly.

The Inspector lifted his hands. "This story belongs to Alex. I could not tell it for him."

Everyone found a seat somewhere, though there weren't nearly enough chairs and Sparky ended up on the floor. Trixie was too nervous to sit, and the Inspector didn't look it but she thought he felt the same.

"After Rex Racer testified against Benelli," Elena began, "the C.I.B. took an interest in his safety, and two agents who were also mechanics were assigned to watch for any sabotage. Myself, and Alexander Ryder. We became good friends to your son, and prevented several attacks of one kind and another. Then came Casa Cristo."

The silence in the room was deafening, as Elena looked at her husband in genuine sorrow. She went on, "It was Alexander's turn to guard the car that night. We don't know who was responsible for the sabotage, but whoever it was, they killed Alexander."

Stunned expressions turned to Rex, who shifted uncomfortably. "Elena found the sabotage," he said. "A bomb, timed to blow about when the leaders would be in the Maltese Ice Caves, and the Quick-Save disconnected. Most people wouldn't have seen it, but she was determined something had to be wrong." He was talking to Speed now, and the rest of the room was paralyzed, waiting; but he didn't continue.

The Inspector quietly picked up the thread of the story. "We realized Benelli's people were not going to give up. And there had been threats against Rex's family, even though he had made the split between you very public."

"It was the only way to keep you safe," Rex whispered. "The only way. I left Ryder's body in my car, redid the sabotage Elena had fixed, and triggered the bomb." His eyes were haunted. "I took Ryder's name. Got a new face. I couldn't tell you. If you'd known, they would have noticed. I couldn't risk it. Couldn't risk you. Not for me."

"Your family buried Alexander Ryder in that coffin, Mrs. Racer, Mr. Racer," the Inspector said, gently. "Your son is alive. And I hope you will believe that I have never wanted to keep him from you."

Their mother drew a deep, gasping breath, and flung herself into motion, crushing Rex to her with the strength of ten years' impossible longing. Rex wrapped his arms around her with equal fervor, and the tears in his eyes made Trixie realize her own cheeks were wet.

Sparky followed, more slowly but as though drawn by an inescapable force. "Rex?" he asked uncertainly, searching the man's unfamiliar face for the boy he'd known.

"Hey, Sparky," Rex greeted him, letting go of his mother with one arm to reach for the mechanic's hand. Trixie couldn't see the handshake, but something about it made Sparky light up, all his doubt gone.

Pops hadn't moved. Rex raised his head, a deep self-doubt visible in his eyes. "Pops," he began, "I--I know you said if I left, I shouldn't...I'm sorry I've been deceiving you."

Trixie crossed her fingers so tightly it hurt, hoping Pops would do something to chase that darkness from Rex's face.

An incredulous smile crept its way up like a sunrise. "You're alive," he stated, sounding more than half worried it might be a dream of some sort.

Mom shoved Rex in the appropriate direction, since he apparently wasn't moving on his own. Pops wrapped him in an unbreakable embrace. "As long as you're alive, I can forgive anything," he rumbled, and the tears spilled unashamedly down his face.

"Now don't you get any ideas!" Mom hastily warned her troublesome youngest, under her breath. Trixie grinned.

For once in his life, though, it didn't look like Spritle was considering any mischief at all. He sidled over to Speed. "That's Rex?" he demanded.

Speed nodded. "That's Rex. He's your oldest brother."

"He's a secret agent!" Spritle exclaimed. "That is so _cool_ !"

Denied the room to embrace her son again, Mom hugged Elena in an overflow of affection. "And you've brought us a beautiful daughter-in-law!" A thought visibly occurred to her, and she paused. "Do I have any grandchildren?" she asked, sounding hopeful.

Speed burst out laughing, as Elena regretfully informed the family that there were as yet no grandkids.

Trixie flung an exuberant arm around the Inspector, feeling that he needed to be in on the affection somehow. "Everything's going to be all right now," she proclaimed, and ducked with some difficulty through the crowd to hug Speed, too.

"You need to keep calling me Alex," Rex reminded everyone seriously. "No one outside the family can know about any of this."

They could never afterward remember exactly what was said that made it obvious to the family that Alex was also Racer X, or who said it. After the first tremendous shock, this second hardly caused any noticeable stir, except with Spritle. Apparently if the Harbinger of Boom was his _brother_ , and a _secret agent_ , then it just made him more _awesomely cool!_ Or so Trixie gathered.

"We'll set up the study as a bedroom for you two," Mom announced eventually, in tones that people regretted trying to contradict. "A cot and the couch is all very well for a little while, but we're going to want you to come back to visit. Often! You'll need your own room."

"Inspector?" Speed asked quietly, while the inevitable protests began. "What about my testimony, sir?"

The Inspector smiled. "Taejo Togokhan has agreed to testify," he said. "After he heard that your helicopter had been shot down, he contacted us and made arrangements to give his deposition immediately. The prosecution assures me they have all the evidence they need to convict Royalton on many, many counts."

"If you need me," Speed said, "ever, then I want to help."

A commending hand rested on his shoulder. "You're a brave man, Speed. Just like your brother. If there's a need, I'll contact you. But I think you've both earned some time with your family."

Trixie smiled at the man. "Thank you," she said softly. "I don't think Rex ever would have come back if you hadn't sent him."

"A family like this deserves a little extra protection," he murmured, and Trixie was glad to see the guilt had lifted from his face as he slipped away unobserved.

"No, Speed and I are going to drive back in my car," Alex was saying, sounding more comfortable now. "I need it. Soon as he's better, we're having a race, me and him."

Trixie prodded Speed with one finger. "So? Who do you think's going to win, you or your--I mean Alex?"

Speed blinked at her, with a slow, contented smile. "It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter!" she repeated, in shock. Since when did Speed Racer think winning didn't matter?

"Well, I mean, it does matter, of course," he corrected himself hastily, "because I hope it's me. But it doesn't _really_ matter. You know?"

She was usually pretty good at interpreting him, but this one escaped her. "I don't understand, Speed."

"It doesn't matter," he said, looking at her with indescribable joy in his eyes, "because there's always going to be another rematch."

end!

* * *

_Notes:_

_While this story is complete, there is some possibility of a sequel. It would have a great deal of Alex/Elena backstory, if I do write it, as well as further reactions to Rex's revelation. It will also come out a great deal slower than this one. I've never written so fast in my life and I don't expect it to happen again. _

_If you want to hear more about Elena, please tell me so! And if not, I'd like to hear that too. She's so much my own development from what little the movie gave us about her that I'm nervous about giving her more of the spotlight. _

_ If you'd like to use any concepts I came up with in a fic of your own, please just let me know. _


End file.
